


Little Bones

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Series: The Boys of Birch [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Biker AU, Biker Thor, Birch, Bucky Barnes - Freeform, F/M, Rape, Sequel, Thor - Freeform, biker, if y'all though biker bucky or steve were bad, like he just won't give up, nonconsent, persistent thor, steve rogers - Freeform, the haters can at me about writing a biker fic again because i need someone to s my d, threequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:40:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29180385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); harassment, general creepinessThis is dark! (biker) Thor x chubby!reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.Series Synopsis: You’re a city girl stuck in a small town, but Birch isn’t as sleepy as it seems.
Relationships: Thor/Reader, thor Odinson/reader
Series: The Boys of Birch [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2142258
Comments: 84
Kudos: 200





	1. It gets so sticky down here

**Author's Note:**

> So, I’ve made some positive changes in my life. I am working away at original work, I’m drinking more water, I’m taking my dog on big walks and being more active, and I’m doing my best. So, I was struck with an old yearning to return to Birch. I’ll be updating here and there as I feel and won’t be pushing myself like I did before because I realise how unhealthy and stressful it was on me.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a kudos or a comment! Love ya!

**Chapter 1: It gets so sticky down here**

A city girl in a small town. _What could be sadder than that?_

In the city, life went fast. In a place like Birch, the days dragged by as if to remind you of how helpless you were beneath the unyielding and inevitable tick of the clock. The hand wound around and around as you waited for what would never happen. The dreams of your childhood eroded beneath the rolling years leaving trail of crumbs you could not follow back to the beginning.

A woman just beyond her prime trapped in an antiquated career. The empty aisles between the shelves full of books bespoke of a bygone era. The forgotten library at the far end of the main street rarely saw a new face and those familiar were fewer by the day. The staff had thinned to three of you; Melissa was older than you with a daughter nearly your age and Colin was close to retirement if not well past.

You got on well enough, as well as you could given Colin’s faulty hearing aid, and Melissa’s wandering mind. They meant well but they shared the lethargy of the old small town. 

You weren’t nostalgic for the smog or the flashing lights of the city, but there was no life to this place. Only the impending reach of death rattling closer in the roar of the motorcycles and the rumble of the old railroad that ran through the middle of town.

The air nipped at your cheeks as you approached the library. A morning of yawning had you craving a latte from the bakery and the quiet girl behind the counter cheerfully steamed the foam before handing it over. Everyone in this town was familiar, everyone knew everyone else, and yet, you still felt like an outsider.

You felt the heat of the cup through your glove and you looked up as you sensed two figures by one of the thick columns of the library façade. Melissa stood chatting with her daughter, hugging her sweater around her as she’d left her coat inside. You peeked up at the grey sky as snow threatened at any moment with the mid-November bite.

As you thought to pass them and leave their conversation uninterrupted, your name drew you back.

“I was just telling my daughter,” Mel began as she waved you over with a chatter of her teeth. “About that podcast you mentioned. She loves those old Hollywood stars.”

“Oh,” you blew the steam away from the lid of your drink as you neared, “It’s alright. The stories are worth the narrator’s schtick.”

“Yeah? I’ve been closing at the bar and I like to listen to something once it clears out.” Mel’s daughter said. “You wouldn’t mind giving me the name?”

You told her the title of the podcast and helped her find it on Spotify to follow for later. Mel shivered and stood closer to her daughter who was bundled up against the onslaught of Birch’s blustering winter. You knew about her too. 

She was friendly but you saw in her a cynicism more common to city folk. You got along but you were weary of her associations. The local club of crass bikers were neither subtle nor savoury. In the city, it was easy enough to ignore the patch and all that came along with it. The seedy figures were distilled by the broader population but not in Birch. There, the club was the town.

“Mom, you can’t stay out here.” She poked her mother’s arm. “It’s too cold.”

“Little better in the library.” You grumbled and sipped your latte. “The radiator’s broken again.”

“You mean Colin broke it trying to fix what wasn’t broken,” Melissa shook her head, “and I’m fine, dear. I’ve spent more than fifty winters in Birch and been through worse than this.”

“Yes, but you were younger then--” Her voice dwindled as she turned her head to listen to the distant roar of exhaust.

You followed her gaze and noted the way her forehead creased at the noise. She swallowed and turned to watch as a dark rider turned onto the main road from the highway. It was the man who kept her entwined with the club, the one who marked her latent authority over all others. The only one who outranked her.

She swore and looked over her shoulder at her mother. Her mother touched her arm. It was a telling and surprising moment. Her expression read of all the disgust you felt for the bikers.

At least a dozen bikes followed the first and Bucky raised his glove hand to signal the others to slow as he pulled up to the curb just before the library steps. You backed away as his breath clouded around him and he waved Mel’s daughter closer. He craned to kiss her as she bent, her fingers picking at her jeans as she did, then he nodded his greeting to Mel.

“What are you doing?” He asked tersely.

“Can’t I see my mother?” The daughter challenged and the biker scoffed.

“Of course,” he killed his engine and the others mimicked him in fine order. “I wouldn’t keep ya from her but you didn’t tell me you were going downtown.”

“You were gone.”

You listened to the conversation as you stayed close to the column, thinking of sneaking up the steps into the library before you heard too much. Your curiosity had you searching the crowd of leather jackets as their wearers tried to conceal their impatience with their boss’ impromptu halt.

Among them, a large man sat casually in his seat, his feet planted on the cold pavement as he rolled slightly back and forth. Strands of his thick blond hair were drawn back beneath his helmet into a thick braid as the rest hung around his shoulders. His patch was different from the rest, an old Norse symbol you didn’t know the meaning of. There were several others who wore the same cut, including a dark-haired woman who chatted with another golden-haired rider.

You tasted your latte again, it cooled quickly as the cold air battered the cardboard. As you sipped and sidled around the column, your eyes were caught by another pair. The very man you’d just been watching was now focused on you. You stopped, hoping like some frightened animal that your stillness would ward off his attention.

“Barnes,” the broad blonde man spoke as he finally looked away. “You’ve not even introduced me to your woman. I assume that’s why we’ve stopped.”

Bucky shifted on his bike and sighed. You hadn’t expected the man to have an accent. His voice was deep but the subtle lilt defined his tone as unforgettable. The dark-haired biker of Birch rolled his eyes before he pointed to his girl and gave her name, then to Melissa as he explained their relation.

You sidestepped around the column to the stairs of the library and turned away. You were stopped again by the same voice.

“And that one? The quiet one?”

You spun back slowly and looked at each biker, many unconcerned with conversation, as a few stared back at you or at the viking-like rider. Bucky shook his head and furrowed his brow at Melissa’s daughter. She hesitated before she gave your name coolly referred to you as just another librarian. She was trying to deflect the focus and you were thankful for it. You wondered at her own blatant spite for that breed of man.

“No one important,” Bucky grabbed his keys. “Come on, honey. I’ll give you a ride back.”

“I can walk.”

“Get on.” He said gruffly and turned the keys.

The motorcycles thrummed back to life in a cacophony. You flinched and turned back to the library doors. Your lunch was almost over as it was and the cold was starting to make your head hurt. You heard the bikes tear off as you reached the door and you turned back to watch as Melissa ran up after you.

You held the door for her and paused as you watched riders tear away. The blonde remained and watched you with a smirk. He winked as he slowly rolled after the others and pushed off. You followed Melissa inside and pulled the door shut tightly behind you.

“I’ll finish the returns,” you slipped past her, “you should try to warm up.”

“Thanks, dear,” she rubbed her hands together as she neared the curve desk you all shared, “God, that man makes my skin crawl.”

“But your daughter--”

“She handles him as well as she can,” Melissa sat and logged onto her boxy PC, “she’s stronger than me, that’s for sure.”

You sat and chewed on the thought. You just assumed her daughter leaped at the opportunity to date the most powerful man in town. _What else could a girl from Birch hope for?_

“She doesn’t…”

“He keeps her safe, I guess,” Melissa muttered, “I don’t say nothing against it. I won’t, for her sake as much as mine.”

You lowered your lashes and turned to the stack of unscanned books. You took the first and opened the cover.

“I didn’t mean to-- I don’t really know anything about the… bikers.”

“Hope you never do, dear,” she said listlessly. “Those men, if you can call them that, are the lowest form of humanity.”

**💀**

You always took the same route home. It wasn’t very far. You lived in the studio apartment above Tammy’s, the clothes shop where all the local seniors got their outdated outfits. The store itself smelled like a retirement home but you were not often disturbed by the activity below. Like everything in Birch, it wasn’t very exciting.

Your walk took you past the diner and along the stretch across the street from the town’s sentinel, The Asp. The bar was the only place in town which always seemed to be bursting with life. You had an old Chevrolet parked behind the building but you never drove to work, only on your odd trip to the city to get away from the suffocation malaise of main street.

That day as you fumbled to get your earbud back in, you heard a whistle. You got a few comments now and again about your habit of blocking out the townsfolk and the town itself with your music. In the city, you didn’t just say hi to every person you walked by and you had little inclination to change that habit.

You kept going and the whistle came louder. You heard boots hammer across the street and you stopped as the earbud once more fell out of your ear.

“Eh, kitten,” you turned to the long-haired biker. A golden hammer hung from a chain and peaked out from the open collar of his jacket. He tucked his hands in his pockets as you faced him with blatant irritation. “We didn’t get to meet properly, did we?”

You stared at him and let out a foggy breath. You leaned on your left heel and shook your head with a scoff.

“No.” You said and turned back along your path.

“No?” He repeated and his footsteps followed closely. “I’m only being friendly, kitten. I’m not from around here and I’m just tryn’ ta make a few friends.”

“I’m not interested,” you march onward and stop short. 

You realised if you went any further, you’d lead him straight to your door. You didn’t need him knowing where you lived. You veered off and crossed the street, he stayed close just like your shadow. You’d stop by the liquor store and wait him out there.

“Where are you going, kitten?”

“Can’t you take a hint?” You nearly tangled your own legs as you pivoted sharply. “I’m sorry for your luck that you’ve ended up in Birch but I don’t know you and I don’t want to know you.” You grasped the handle of the liquor store door. “Oh, and my name isn’t kitten.”

“I know your name. I remember it.” He grinned and you swung open the door. He caught it behind you and you let out a frustrated sigh as he trailed you inside. “It’s almost as gorgeous as you.”

“Do those work on the women where you’re from?”

You stared at the shelf of fruit wines and tried to ignore him. You were starting to build a real thirst for the bottles.

“I don’t meet a lot of women like you, kitten.”

“Would you stop it--” You blinked and stomped further down the aisle.

“Thor. My name’s Thor.” He offered gallantly. “But you can call me whatever you wish.”

“I could think of a few things.” You bent down to read the label of a wine from the Maritimes.

“Mmm, my thoughts run wild, kitten.” He purred and you looked up at him in confusion.

You swiped the bottle from the shelf and stood straight. His eyes clung to your ass and as you turned, they swiftly found your chest. Neither were well-hidden by your jacket, even as thick as it was. Your weight often deterred the whistles and the leers, but not this time.

“How many ways can I tell you to go away?” You hissed and move to step around him. He turned and watched you pass. He shivered as you brushed against him unwillingly in the narrow aisle.

“So, you got a man?” He questioned as again he tailed you to the counter. You grabbed a small bottle of Vodka from the rack beside it and dug out your wallet.

“Does it matter?”

He bent and leaned on the counter beside you and you ignored his attempt to look you in the face. You paid and took your change as the clerk bagged your purchase.

“To me, everything about you matters, kitten.”

You shot him a sharp look and took your paper bag. You hugged it close and glared at him as he straightened. “Stop calling me that.”

“Here,” he gripped the top of the bag, “I’ll help.”

“I’ll smash this bottle over your head,” you threatened. “Now I’ve told you to leave me alone.”

He chuckled and dipped his head. His hair slid down the leather and he scratched his thick beard.

“Don’t worry, kitten, I like to play.” 

He looked at you again, his blue eyes twinkling. You were startled as suddenly he ‘woofed’’ at you. You backed away and he kept close as is to chase you, ready to salivate like the dog he mimicked.

“Get away!” You shouted and raced for the door.

His barks turned to laughter and the bell announced your stagger out onto the street. You didn’t look back as you charged across the street and narrowly missed being mowed down by Linda Karling. You reached the other side as you heard the liquor store door clatter a second time. You sensed his shadow as you turned down a side street.

You walked until you were certain he wasn’t following. The cold blew up your jacket as you mapped out your way back. You could sneak around the back of the clothes shop and sneak up the metal escape. You peered back and forth, the old house just at the town limits nearly faded into the dimming sky and main street shrouded by brick walls.

“Hey,” a small voice surprised you as a woman neared, walking the same route as you. “Whatcha doing all the way up here?”

You stared at her dumbly. It was the woman who worked at the bakery. She hung out with the club too.

“Nothing, I…” You grabbed your earbuds and put them back in your ears. “I was listening to my music and got carried away.”

“Oh?” she chittered like a mouse. “No one comes this way. Only me to see my ma.”

You nodded at her and gave an awkward smile. “Mmhmm. Well, thanks. I probably would’ve wandered right out of town.”

“I wouldn’t blame you,” she said forlornly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“For your latte. And you always get the banana loaf when it’s on special and tomorrow’s Tuesday.”

You sniffed and rubbed your neck. You hated that. You hated that everyone knew you, that everyone knew what you did, and that they assumed they knew everything else. But she was sweet and you couldn’t hate her for never being freed from the prison of Birch.

“Oh yeah,” you squeezed the paper bag so it crinkled and pulled out your phone with your free hand, “tomorrow.”


	2. Better butter your cue finger up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); harassment, general creepiness, unwanted touches
> 
> This is dark! (biker) Thor x chubby!reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got another part and I hope you love biker!Thor as much as I do. It’s lots of fun.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think, Love ya!

The bottle of wine sat on your counter and you hid away the vodka in your freezer as you resisted the temptation of both. The library made hangovers even worse with its bright lights and tedious nothingness. So you tried to ignore the tapping at your shoulder, the persistent tug of your paranoia, and pretended that nothing had changed. _In Birch, nothing did change, right?_

The click of your mouse and the loud tapping of keys filled the silence of the library. Colin snored with eyes wide open. It was hard to tell when the old man was awake or sleeping. You weren’t sure there was a line left between the two for him. He spent most of his working hours in the back on the other side of the windowed wall although what exactly he did there remained a mystery.

There wasn’t very much to do there outside the occasional school visits in which students walked down to complete some research project or the teacher’s held a crafting circle. You liked those days as often you could join in and help wrangle in the pupils as they explored the sterile shelves.

Melissa stood and her chair rolled back with a grumble. She stretched and bent to grab her purse from under the desk.

“I’m going down to Bab’s. You want anything?”

“Hmm,” you tapped your chin as you leaned back. “I wouldn’t mind a latte. Oh, and I think they have the banana loaf today. A slice of that too.”

You peeked under the desk and sat forward to grab your bag from the cubby beside your PC tower. “Nope,” Mel stopped you, “it’s on me today. I need a breath of fresh air anyway. Even if it is cold as hell.”

“Oh, thanks, Mel,” you smiled and grabbed a pen to click in your monotony. “We should dig out the Christmas decorations soon. It might actually give us something to do.”

“Maybe for an hour or two,” she pulled her jacket from the rack that stood against the wall between the front counter and the back room, “We could try something new this year. I saw these lights online, you can program them with your phone.”

“You think Colin could handle that?”

“Like he would even notice.” She laughed and pulled on her coat and grabbed her purse. “Latte, banana bread.” She recited. “I’ll be back.”

You watched her go then stretched your legs out as you arched in the chair. You fell back limp and closed your eyes. You could fall asleep right there. You really couldn’t blame Colin for his waking trance. This place made your ears buzz and your head spin.

You heard the whoosh of the automatic doors and sat up. You were surprised at your visitor but not disappointed. Melissa’s daughter approached the desk as she swung her bag in her hand. You could tell by the little wrinkle between her eyebrows that she wasn’t happy.

“Your mom’s just gone to Bab’s,” you rolled closer to the desk. “You must’ve seen her.”

“I saw her.” She said tersely. She stilled her fidgeting and planted her dangling purse on the desk. She sighed and crossed her arms. “I’m here to talk to you.”

“Is something the matter?”

You were nervous. You knew her as well as her mother and you got along. You shared an interest in old Hollywood and a taste for dry history and humour. You liked her, envied her even for having a mother like Melissa.

“I hate doing this. I hate when he makes me do this.” She dropped her arms and instead gripped her hips. “You want to come down to the Asp tonight? For a drink?”

You chuckled and clicked the pen. “It’s Wednesday. I have to open tomorrow and--”

“Hrgh,” she huffed. “I’m sorry but it’s… not a question.”

You put the pen down and clamped your lips together. She shook her head and looked away.

“It’s an order. From Bucky.” She tapped her toe on the carpet. “I tried to tell him that you wouldn’t want to come so late. That you know, you work. He just doesn’t listen and--” She heaved and threw up her hands in exasperation, “I tried.”

“But… me? I don’t even know any of those… people. It’s not really my scene.” You swallowed and dug your nail into your thumb. 

“I’ll be there. Same with Steve’s girl from the bakery. She’s nice. And…” her eyes were dull but irritated, “look, if you don’t show up, Bucky will go and find you. Everyone in town reports to him. You don’t have to be in his club, he owns Birch.” She grabbed the thin strap of her small purse and drew it from the desk, “you don’t want to learn that the hard way like I did.”

You knew it wasn’t Bucky who wanted you there, you suspected that big blond brute who had chased you down the street. Her anxiety fed yours and made you uneasy. _If she were that afraid, how scared should you be?_

“I think you know my answer considering I’ve been given little choice.” You said firmly. “What time?”

“Seven. I got him to budge on at least that. You won’t be out too late.” She gave a weak smile and twisted the strap of her bag. “Stay close to me and I’ll do what I can. You know, with Steve’s girl, I really tried…” She looked away and rolled her as they turned glossy. “Sometimes, Bucky listens to me and I’m figuring out how to make him.”

“Why are you with him?” You whispered. “Why--”

“You think it’s a choice I made.” She blinked and sniffed. “No, it was made for me when I was born in this god forsaken pit.” She thrust her purse over her shoulder and shrugged. “I don’t know why anyone would make up their mind to come here.”

“I can’t say I’m happy with the decision.” You returned.

She sent you a pitying look before she spun away. She marched back to the doors as her mother nearly collided with her. They spoke for a few minutes before the younger left and Melissa came over to plop her goodies on the desk.

“New latte flavour, candy cane. I figured we might get a bit festive.” She announced.

**💀**

You stood outside the Asp and stared up at the snow-covered marquee. The powder began to fall just after noon and collected along the small ledge below the image of Cleopatra. You wore a bright pink toque with an oversized pom-pom and tucked your chin down against the matching scarf tucked down the front of your cherry-coloured coat. You stuck out among the grey of Birch.

You didn’t put much effort into getting ready. You kept on the same polka-dot blouse from work and traded your trousers for faded jeans and a pair of knee-high boots. You took a breath and stepped through the doors, barely avoided the rush of snow that fell down behind you.

The bar smelled of beer and a stale but pungent dinginess. You looked around in the low din. The bartender, a woman named Lucy, dried several glasses and stacked them on a shelf and every man in the place wore leather. 

You found Melissa’s daughter next to Bucky as he squinted at his closest accomplice, Steve. The shy girl from the bakery was tucked under his arm as she picked at the hem of her short skirt. You cleared your throat as you pondered leaving.

A figure on Bucky’s other side stood and you frowned as that man, Thor, smiled at you like a puppy. You fixed your mouth into a straight line as Bucky’s girl rose and waved you over.

“Hey, you made it,” she said. You didn’t miss the way Bucky’s hand slid up her thigh.

“Yeah,” you said flatly as you rounded the table.

“Kitten,” Thor greeted as he pulled out the chair next to him in a flourish. “I’ve a seat just for you.”

You looked from the chair to his face. You made no move to sit.

“If that’s not to your tastes, you can sit in my lap.” He taunted.

Your lips parted in disgust and you grabbed the back of the chair. You wrenched it away from him and backed up steadily as you dragged it around the table. You stopped it next to Steve’s girl and unzipped your jacket. You sat and shrugged out of the coat then crossed your arms. You tore your eyes from the large man and smiled at the baker girl.

“The banana loaf was good,” you said. “Sorry I didn’t make it down.”

“Oh, it’s ugly out there,” she turned in Steve’s hold and his arm slipped down around her waist. 

You could feel Thor’s constant gaze as you humoured the girl about the weather and listened to her story about how Mrs. Deeton sent back a blueberry scone for not having any blackberries. You did your best to blot out the rest of the bar.

“Kitten, you want a drink?” He interrupted and you peered over at him. You glanced from him to Lucy as she stood and awaited an order.

“Do you have ginger ale?” You asked her directly.

“We have club soda or iced tea right now.” She said with venom.

“Iced tea, thank you.” You fished through your purse for a fiver.

“Put it on my tab,” Thor insisted.

“No, it’s fine, I--”

You held out the bill and he reached across to snatch it from your hand. “On my tab.” He repeated and the barmaid stomped away. He tossed the five back to you and smirked. “Keep it, kitten.”

You swiped it up and turned back to Steve’s girl. She looked frightened as she stared at the blonde man and slowly returned her attention to you.

“Um, so, I was going to tell you the secret ingredient to Bab’s banana bread but you have to promise not to tell.”

“Sure,” you leaned in and she whispered it in your ear and giggled. 

“I’m not supposed to tell.” She uttered as she touched her cheeks guiltily.

“I’ve been telling her she don’t need to worry about rules,” Steve intoned as his fingers danced on her hip.

“My mother made the best banana cream pie,” Thor interrupted. “She handed the recipe down to me. My sister was never much into sweets.”

“Oh?” Steve’s girl turned to Thor. “We don’t serve that at Bab’s but we have lemon meringue.”

“Mother made that too. She showed me the trick to perfect peaks. I could show you.”

Steve growled and pulled his girl closer. She looked at him as he sent a heated glare at Thor. She touched his chest and cooed at him to relax. Lucy returned with your iced tea and you took it eagerly as the tension burned at your face.

“So, kitten,” Thor scooted his chair around the table as you set your glass down, “what trouble did you get into today?”

“I work at a library.” You uttered dryly.

“And did you enjoy your wine last night? I always heard it’s better with company.”

You jutted out your jaw in annoyance and looked at him. He was painfully persistent.

“Excuse me.” You stood and nearly gave him a face full of your chest. You looked to Bucky’s girl as she listened to his incessant grumbles. “Where’s the restroom?”

“Just down there,” she pointed along the far side of the bar.

“I could show you,” Thor offered and you waved him off.

“I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

“Yes, you are,” he purred and you backed up as his eyes grazed your hips.

You were all too eager to hide in the bathroom and closed yourself in a stall as you tried not to scream. You had dealt with perverts before. Often you were the butt of some joke. The wingman settled for the chubby girl so his pal could get laid. Those types thought you were desperate and had no qualms with getting handsy on the dance floor. But college was long ago and Birch wasn’t known for its nightlife.

After a moment, you were able to steady yourself and you left the stall. You stood by the grungy sink and stared at the mirror. _Why you? Why was this idiot bugging you?_

You went back out with reluctant steps. You passed a drunk man at the bar talking about some feat of machismo in his foregone youth. As you neared the table, you froze in the spot as you listened.

“...she’s fat anyway.” Steve snarled and laughed meanly.

His chortle was curtailed as a chair scraped on the floor and the baker girl cried out. Thor forced Steve to his feet but the front of his tee shirt. He pulled him past his girl and brought him close as he growled down at him through flaring nostrils.

“I like you, Rogers, but your mouth makes it real hard.” Thor sneered.

“What the fuck?” Steve struggled against him, “let me go.”

“I’m not sitting here shit-talking your woman, eh. You might have little respect for them, but I do.”

“Jesus Christ!” Steve was on tip-toes as he was held up by the other man.

“Apologize.” Thor demanded.

“Wha--”

“Dammit, Steve, say sorry.” Bucky snapped.

“S-sorry, dude.” Steve stuttered.

“Not to me,” Thor turned and to your surprise, he thrust Steve around to face you. “To her.”

You stared in shock as Steve straightened his shirt. He was like a petulant child as he looked you in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

“For…” Thor prodded.

“I’m sorry I called you fat.” Steve looked away.

“I…” you didn’t know what to do or say as you glanced past him to the other girls. “Well, I am so it’s fine.”

Thor shoved Steve back and his thick brows drew together. “Don’t listen to him,” he said. “I like a little extra.”

“Hey,” Bucky’s girl interrupted as she stood suddenly, “the table’s free. How about I get Wanda and we can play some doubles, just us girls.” She touched Bucky’s shoulders, “leave the men to their business.”

Thor’s shoulders fell and he shook his head. He grinned at you even as his disappointment shone through.

“Sure,” you answered as you stepped around him. “Sounds fun.”

**💀**

You focused on the felt. It didn’t help block out the blazing heat of Thor’s leer. You refused to look over at him and instead pretended to be enthralled with the game of solids and stripes. 

When you were a kid, you went to the youth centre and played with the rest of the kids desperate for a distraction. In uni, you enjoyed your plastic cups of cheap sambuca and coke at the campus bar and chalked up the cues. You were no expert but you could hit a good shot now and again. Your mother used to recount tales of her hustler father. Maybe it was his blood that kept your hand steady.

The other girls played as a pair as you handed off to Wanda. She wore the cut of the Birch’s club and her dark lipstick was the same shade as the leather. You saw her now and again with the men. She smoked her cigarettes out front and watched the town with indifference.

Wanda took her shot and clicked her tongue as she scratched. You shook your head as Steve’s girl scrunched her nose at the table. You were even; three stripes and three solids. She went around the far corner and awkwardly positioned herself over the side. She reached back to tug down her short skirt, she was clearly uncomfortable in the revealing outfit.

She sunk her mark but her next stopped short of the pocket. She shook her head and apologized to Steve’s girl who assured her with a pat on the shoulder. You took the cue from Wanda and walked around the table. You walked back and wondered if you could sink two in one. _It was a possible angle but could you hit it?_

You tilted your head and sighed. You bent and brought your foot back as you squinted and carefully positioned the cue. You couldn’t decide whether you should try to spin it to the right or hit it straight on. You knew the power you needed but you couldn’t afford to hit a stripe.

You almost tapped the cue ball as you felt a warmth over you and suddenly a hard torso was against your back. You went rigid as Thor bent over you and put his hands over your as he adjusted your aim. His hot breath wrapped around your neck.

“Almost, kitten,” he pushed his crotch against your ass.

You pulled the cue back so that it hit his ribs and he grunted as his hands fell to the edge of the table. You took the shot and pushed out of his grasp. His hand dragged over your ass as he stood straight and touched his side with a wince. 

“I got it.” You said as both balls rolled and dropped into opposite pockets.

He chuckled and bit his lip. It was almost a snarl as he watched you across the table and you sensed the bated breaths of the other women.

“I like a woman with a firm grip,” he winked, “And confidence.”

You looked back to the table as he loomed on the other side. You sunk the last solid and lined up for the eight ball. A straight, easy shot that even the most amateur could get. You ended the game and Wanda clapped as the other girls grumbled their congratulations.

“Best out of three?” Steve’s girl asked.

“I’m sorry to disappoint but I have to work early.” You leaned the cue on the table. “I showed up and now I’m done. It was fun, girls, but I’m gonna turn in.”

You smiled at each of them and your face fell as you passed them and went to grab your coat from the chair where it still hung. Thor was less than subtle as he followed you to the table and watched you zip up your coat over your chest. You slung your purse over your arm and pulled your hat on as you braced for the chill that awaited you.

“You shouldn’t walk alone.” Thor intoned.

“It’s a small town. I’m fine.” You spun away and again, he followed.

At the door, you turned back and crossed your arms. “Look, I can handle myself, buddy. Now leave me alone.”

“I’m just being nice.”

“You’re being a pest.”

“You love it.”

You huffed and closed your eyes to keep them from rolling back into your skull. You looked at him again and bit down on your words. “Do you ever give up?”

“On you, never.” He grinned.

“Well, be a good dog and stay.” You jabbed your finger in the air. “Stay!” You repeated as if he was a hyper dog. “Good.”

You quickly slipped through the door and booked it across the street. The door didn’t hit the frame but was instead caught as his boots scuffed out behind you. You peered back as you reached the other side and kept up your steady jog. He watched you but did not give chase.

“I’ll sniff you out one day, kitten,” he called out. “Pussy, pussy, pussy.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); harassment, general creepiness.
> 
> This is dark! (biker) Thor x chubby!reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Another random update of a series for y’all as I toil away at drabbles in between!
> 
> Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think! Love ya!

Your skin crawled as you walked to work the next morning. The memories of the night before made you cringe and tuck your chin down as you kept your eyes ahead of you. You feared if you looked around, you might summon the incessant biker from his hole.

The library was as empty as any other day and you claimed your seat at the curved desk. You booted up and sipped from your thermos, the coffee bitter on your tongue as you watched Melissa appear from the non-fiction section. She sat in her own chair and yawned as she signed on.

The monotony of Birch was sobering after the night in the dank bar. The bikers and their own little world, a microcosm of the worst types all in one place. You went about your usual tasks, there were a few returns on the cart to put back on the shelves and you walked the shelves and checked for out of order codes.

The hours slaked by like the peaks of a mountain against ancient gales. The stale lights made the days stretch to tedium and the grey without added to the sense of listlessness. Colin’s low snores escaped the back room and Melissa sorted through bent paperbacks in a far aisle to put out for the Sunday penny sale.

As the windows darkened, Colin gave his usual grumbled farewell and further mussed his wavy hair as he tried to smooth it out. It didn’t matter much as he covered it with the old faded Leafs toque and left through the automatic doors. His shadow was soon followed by Melissa as she looked forward to seeing her daughter and watching some new program on the local channel.

You were the last as you walked the aisles before final lock-up. The automatic doors were off as you checked for unlikely stragglers. You came back to the round desk and flipped off the lights for all but the entry way and the back office. You pushed open the door and locked the outside ones with a jangle of keys. As you turned back, you gripped the big key to the back door and shook your head.

You stepped through the space between the inner doors and stared at the man behind your desk. He sat in your chair, your purse sat before him on the counter as he shoved a large hand inside. You crossed your arms and watched Thor as he pulled out your coral coloured wallet and unsnapped it.

“What are you doing?” You asked harshly. “How did you get in here?”

He snickered and pulled out a card and lifted it up to look at it closely. He leaned back and flicked it with his thumb. “I knew you were a city girl.” He said.

“Get out. We’re closed.”

“Sorry, I’m late. I’m a busy man.” He slid the card back in place and searched the rest, uninterested by the few bills inside the fold and your various reward cards and outdated alumni ID.

“Late? You don’t seem the reading type. We don’t have that many audiobooks.” You neared and grabbed the other handle of your purse. “There’s an app for that now.”

Again, he laughed and dropped your wallet into the depths of your purse. He released it and pushed his shoulders back as you dragged the bag off the desk. He tilted his head and held up your phone in its shiny lavender case. He smirked as the screen lit up and he swiped it open. You never should have added the library as a trusted location.

“Hmm,” he turned it to face him and scrolled with his thumb, “I think you’re missing a number in here.”

“Give it.” You reached for the phone and he held it away from you like some annoying teenager. “Hey… Thor! Give me it. It’s mine!”

His blonde lashes flashed and he looked at you with delight. “Oooh, I love it when you say my name.”

“Stop. You can’t be in here and you certainly can’t--” 

You swiped for the phone again and he caught your arm. He yanked you so hard you almost left the floor and you dropped your purse and keys. He held you over the counter as he twisted your wrist just a little.

“And who exactly is going to make me leave?”

He kept his thick fingers locked around your wrist as he searched your phone. You struggled with him but it only sent a violent jolt up to your elbow.

“I can do whatever I want and you can’t do anything to stop me. In fact, there’s no one in this town who can.” His jaw clenched and he locked your phone. “Well, kitten, I’m going to hold onto this.” He let go of you and stood as you retracted your arm and rubbed your sore wrist. “And when you want to be a good girl for me, you can come find me and ask for it nicely.”

“Ask? You’re crazy. It’s mine. You’re--” you sputtered.

You swallowed as his hand balled to a fist and his brow twitched. It was the first hint of anything but amusement. It was much more troubling, a slight tell. He was angry.

“I’ve been nice, kitten. I like you and your claws but don’t scratch too deep.” He warned as he backed away. “I’ll see my way out unless of course… you would take me up on my offer from last night.”

“Go. Keep the fucking phone.” You snarled and reached for your purse and the keys. 

You stood and watched as he ran his tongue just below his teeth and turned away. He snaked his way through the back office and you heard the heavy metal door whine in his stead. You locked the inner doors and grabbed your jacket from the rack.

You went to the same door and hit the lights. You activated the security system and stepped out with a cautious look around the vacant parking lot. You locked the door and headed around the side of the brick building and out into the glow of the streetlights.

You could get a new phone, that was nothing, just a chunk out of your check. He could search your contacts, your apps, your phones, he’d find nothing but the pathetic life of a thirtysomething wash out. That wasn’t what worried you. 

He was watching you. He had to be. He knew when you were alone and he knew how to get in. You might not see him but you were certain he could see you. You shivered and pulled your hate over your head and puffed out a cloud. 

**💀**

You went home angry but slightly addled from the encounter. You watched over your shoulder the entire way home and locked your door with the tarnished chain. You found it hard to settle as you debated marching over to the bar and demanding your phone back and opening the wine you hadn’t touched since your impulsive purchase. You really hated Thor but you knew you could push him much further before he did something much worse.

You ignored your wrath and ate your dinner in front of the television before hiding under your covers and watching the snowfall until you fell asleep. Every night was as dull as the one before and the morning always came too quickly.

You woke and readied for your day with a cup of home-brewed Colombian roast and packed your lunch. You searched for your phone for two seconds before you remembered where it was. Your neck prickled as you thought of Thor with access to all your information and the barren social media accounts. 

The snow was even deeper that day and you fought through the thick carpet. The library felt twice as far by the time you reached it and you were panting as you entered and shook off the powder. You took your usual spot at the usual time with your usual thermos and usual disillusion.

You whiled away the hours without the distraction of your phone. You realised how easily this man could torture you and not even be in the same place as you. You went searching in the aisles for something to do and scraped the gum off the bottom of the tables. A disgusting task but work nonetheless.

When the end of the day came, you were all too happy to go home and hide under your duvet with a tea and a sitcom. You hated this. You would go to the city and get a new phone if you had too. _God, how much would that cost?_

**💀**

The days slogged by and on your first free day, you were too tired to make the drive out of town. You resigned to your procrastination, instead taking a short walk down the main street to Babs’. Your usual order, but cinnamon instead of caramel in your latte, and a scone to enjoy at home.

The snow remained as thick as days before. You looked out the bakery window in dread as you awaited your order at the end of the counter. You still caught yourself reaching for your phone. If you waited too long, you might not even be able to make it into the city. Well, you could always order something online. 

The door chimed as Steve’s girl came to the other side of the counter and placed your latte out for you. She smiled and you thanked her but her eyes rounded as you heard boots come close. You turned, barely surprised by the man who was better described as your shadow those days. 

Since his visit to the library, Thor had made himself known in several instances, every day as you walked home he was outside the asp, watching. Other times, he’d be waiting by the steps of the library, mocking you silent as he pulled out your phone. You had too much pride to ask for it back and you knew that it would take more than asking.

You tried to sidestep him and he blocked your path. The foam pushed out through the hole in the plastic lid and you sighed.

“What do you want?” you hissed.

“I should ask you. I don’t know many girls these days can go days without their lifeline,” he taunted, “You know, it’s dangerous how much of ourselves we keep on these little things.”

He patted his jacket where he no doubt had your phone hidden. You looked down at your latte and thought of popping the lid off and tossing it at him. That wouldn’t be any good. You shrugged and looked past him.

“I gotta go--”

“Is there anything I can get you, Thor?” Steve’s girl eked out as if her voice could barely fit through her windpipe.

“I’ve come for something sweet but I think I found it,” he smirked, his eyes stuck to you.

“Give it up,” you scoffed and elbowed past him. He chuckled and followed you to the door as you sped up, your treads squeaking on the salt-stained floor.

“On you? Never,” he purred as you pulled the door open and he caught it behind you.

“You can break the phone for all I care,” you snarled, “just leave me alone.”

He kept up with you as flakes gathered on your scarf and you peered down the street and ran across. His boots crunched in time with yours as he lingered in your peripheral. You spun as you came to a stop on the other side and scowled.

“Jesus, I thought dogs were supposed to be obedient,” you snapped.

“I can be,” he winked and reached to brush the snow from the hair poking out from under your cap, “I’ll gladly get to my knees for you, kitten.”

You snapped at his hand and he pulled away with a surprised laugh. You gritted your teeth and took a step back.

“I won’t tell you again and I’m getting real tired of this.”

“You keep forgetting who you’re meowing at, kitten,” he stepped closer and you backed away again.

You turned and flitted away from him. You had not planned for him in your day off and you weren’t going to let him ruin it. You wanted to go home and enjoy your coffee, alone. However, that meant leading him to your front door. You stopped again.

“Go,” you pointed across the street at the Asp, the town’s marquee.

“Oh, kitten, you’re so cute,” he tugged on your scarf and you swatted him away.

“Alright, that’s it!” you smashed your cup against his chest and the hot liquid steamed as it splashed across his front and dripped down his leather jacket. 

He held out his arms as he looked down at himself and slowly back to you. His blue eyes dilated as the ends of his golden hair sopped with caffeine. It was too late to apologize, too futile. You sputtered and quickly turned away.

You were thankful when you didn’t hear him behind you. You stopped and peaked back at the corner of the next side street. He watched you still and even at a distance you could see his rage.

If you hoped he’d lose interest, that optimism was dead.

**💀**

A snow storm stagnated the already stale town and you could guess that the highway was even worse. You could replace your sim online but that would take at least a week to arrive and with the weather, likely longer. It might be quicker to wait out the blizzard. You stayed in limbo, reluctant to pull the trigger.

You kept to your apartment for the rest of the weekend, with no reason or want to leave. On your way, you didn’t see him. You sighted a few figures through the falling powder but they were faces familiar to the streets. You kept an eye over your shoulder, glancing around every few steps.

You avoided the cafe. He might look for you there, he might even be waiting for you. You sat down at your desk but felt out of place. He could walk through those doors like he had only days before. He could taunt you and tease you. What made you so antsy was that he could do worse than that. You knew it but you’d let your temper get the best of you. A wasted latte might have cost you everything.

By the end of your shift, it was decided. You were leaving Birch. No one could know until you were gone. Not Melissa, not Colin, no one. You old all-weathers would have to get you down the highway, just to the city so you could lose yourself there until you had a real plan. Even as the snow piled higher and higher, there could be no delay. You’d waited long enough.

Paranoid, you were certain you’d be met again on your path home. The town was dead as the soft blanket covered the ground. The flakes turned to mounds and the tops of your boots let in errant clumps of snow. The store may as well been closed for the day, the library had been little different but its lethargy was expected. Even The Asp seemed to have dulled with the pale gusts.

You packed a bag. One. The apartment came furnished and you never cared much for miscellany. Anything you left behind was replaceable. You went down the back stairs and cleaned off your small Focus. Used but reliable. You were out of breath as you climbed into the driver’s seat and threw the brush in the back.

You drove carefully down the side streets, snaking around as you knew the main fair would give away your escape. You stopped at the sign that pointed to the highway ramp and wondered. 

_What if he had got the clue? What if you were running from nothing?_

You remember the look in his eye and shivered. No, that glimmer assured you that return to your mother’s was as wise as it would be torturous. You followed the arrow and took the curve steadily with your foot planted on the gas. The traffic was slow and cautious as headlights were barely visible through the snowfall.

You gripped the wheel tightly and let out a breath. You would be gone before he knew. You’d get a new phone, a new job, a new life. Even if it was just pay-as-go, a McDonald’s visor, and your mother’s couch for a while. _What good was a job in a place like Birch anyway?_ Just as good as your irrelevant degree.

You were startled and nearly lost control as a set of lights appeared behind you in the next lane. They were dangerously close to dinging your rear bumper as the reckless driver took a u-turn right before the upcoming barriers. You wrinkled your brow as you glared at them through the white haze. _What kind of maniac was pulling shit like that in this weather?_

And then, they did hit you. A nudge but enough to send you veering in the thick lines of snow. You clutched the wheel and tried to steer into it, tried to right yourself as you were knocked again. Your heart was in your throat as the engine revved and you hit your brakes, not knowing what else to do as a third collision came.

You spun out and hit the cement wall along the far lane, narrowly missing another car as it pulled ahead. You stilled, your seatbelt saving your face from a smack against the wheel, and stared down the highway as you stared at oncoming traffic. You were completely turned around on the arm.

You caught your breath and reached for your purse. _Fuck,_ you had no phone. _What was that asshole thinking?_ It didn’t seem like an accident.

The car that had bullied you into a crash pulled up along the barrier. You watched in the rear view as the barely visible tail lights glowed and a dark figure appeared between the car and the concrete. You squinted as the man neared, a long coat flapped around his tall figure as he held his hand to his face.

He came up beside your car as you heard his voice muffled through the glass and tapped on your window. He bent and knocked again as you shot him the finger. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind. You rolled down the window with the manual crank and growled, “what the fuck!?”

“Can I have your name, darling?” he asked in a sinisterly familiar accent.

“Screw you! You almost killed me!”

He turned his phone out as you screeched at him and quickly put it back to his ear, “that sound like her?”

A deep voice rumbled in the speaker and the dark-hair man nodded as he shielded his face from the blowing snow, “you owe me, brother.”

“Who the fuck are you?” you spat and reached to your glovebox. You grabbed the heavy flashlight and swung it at him, “get away--”

He caught with a leather-gloved hand and glared back at you. He tucked away the phone in his jacket. His nostrils flared and his green irises caught fire. 

“Let’s not do this, darling,” he warned, “my brother has given me clearance to use whatever force necessary…” he pushed the button and pulled open your door as he wrenched away the metal flashlight, “and while he seems the bigger brute, I assure you his cruelty cannot match mine.”


	4. Wind up on the very same pile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); restraints, fingering.
> 
> This is dark! (biker) Thor x chubby!reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, another chapter and I feel better about this series. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋

“Is this really necessary?” you asked as you raised your hands, throbbing from the bungee cord wound around your wrists.

“Wouldn’t be if you hadn’t been so difficult,” the man who called himself Loki smirked as he narrowed his eyes at the windshield, the wipers sweeping away the powder ahead of the burly driver, “how much longer, Korg?” he checked his expensive watch, “this storm isn’t letting up and I’d rather not be stranded out here until it does.”

The man with the almost perfectly square head and fiery red hair steered into the next lane and nodded, “just comin’ up now, boss,” he replied in his peculiar accent, “the streets in town should be worse… I think. We don’t get this weather down home.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Loki sighed and rubbed his jawline, “darling, please, stop your fidgeting. You’re driving me mad.”

“Untie me!” you hissed.

He snickered and smoothed his dark hair, still wet from the storm. You could feel the dampness seeping through your jacket. You chewed the inside of your lip and grimaced at the sign that read ‘Welcome to Birch’.

“You don’t look like one of them,” you grumbled.

“One of them?” he repeated.

“No leather, clean hands,” you sneered, “but you do their dirty work?”

“Well, darling,” he traced the seam of his tailored trousers, “you see, I deal with the finer details of my brother’s business, I am not usually one to tie up these kinds of loose ends but he asked for a favour on my way in.”

“So, you just agreed to abducting a fellow driver? How were you sure which one?”

“My brother can be daft but he is very particular,” he sniffed, “he gave quite a description, darling.”

“Really? He never came across as very articulate to me,” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, I see,” he looked at you, “it’s that mouth that has him so enamoured. Well, let me warn you, you keep on and I will shove that glove sticking out of your pocket down your throat.”

“As charming as you brother,” you scowled.

“You give him too much credit,” Loki sneered and slung a long leg over the other.

You looked to your lap and the thick orange cord at your wrists. You tried to twist our hands but it only made your hands pulse. You let your shoulders slump and dropped your head back against the leather seat. For as dumb as Thor let himself appear, he was always a step ahead of you.

**💀**

You could barely see your building through the billowing plumes of snow but you knew the shape of the flat rooftop. After several wrong turns on the simple map of Birch, your recognition confirmed the men that they had at last found their way. 

Loki slid out and his leather shoes crushed the snow. He was not prepared for the blizzard in his sleek suit and long wool jacket. He didn’t even have a hat and his leather gloves wouldn’t stand up if he were outside for more than five minutes. The door on your side swung open before you could think much about the comfort of your captor.

The man called Korg grabbed your arm and hauled you out onto your feet. Your boots sank into the powder and you looked up at your accoster. His red hair was even brighter as his skin burned a natural amber against the pale smears of snow. The storm painted the town and it streaked around you like an artists’ pigments.

“Well,” Loki spoke above the wailing winds as he followed fading footsteps to the back steps and rested his hand on the broken lock, “I assume my brother was unwelcome here.”

You groaned and planted your feet. You wavered and Korg stopped short. Loki glanced back at him and raised a dark brow as the snow floated on his long lashes.

“Pick her up if need be,” he commanded, “but if she insists on difficulty, we might call on my brother to come down and retrieve his quarry.”

You harrumphed as he pushed the door open, the clasp broken by Thor’s presumed intrusion, and climbed the creaky wooden stairs. You ascended between him and the bulky man. You stared at your boots in strained silence, only the noise of your heavy soles and those ahead of you, the wet droplets of melting snow leaving tracks on each step.

Your apartment door was in better shape but there was a long, deep scratch around the metal keyhole. It was unlocked and Loki let himself in without knocking. Your heart sank at the sight of your apartment, untouched but for the man you spied sitting on your couch. You saw only his long, thick legs as you entered.

“Where do you want the girl?” Loki asked without nicety.

Thor pushed himself up as Korg shoved you to stand beside the dark-haired brother. You bit down as you watched the biker smirk and look you over as he crossed his arms across his chest. He chuckled and licked his lips.

“Ideally, I should not say to spare you discomfort, brother,” Thor mused, “but you might show her to her room.” He pointed down the short hallway behind the front room and attached kitchen, “then we might talk before I see to her.”

“A lot of trouble.” Loki complained, “You send for me to attend to this little agreement with these American thugs, during a storm nonetheless, then make me chase down this chit on the highway.”

“Once you settle in, you will see this place is not so bad,” Thor dropped his arms and came closer to you, he reached to the bungee cord and unhooked it, unwinding it slowly. When he finished, he touched your chin and tickled your cheek, “we will have to catch up after, kitten, my brother’s moods do not favour his patience.”

You pulled away from him and he laughed. He squeezed your shoulder and winked. 

“Korg, down the hall, as I said,” he commanded, “then you might wait for my brother below. I have seen that he has a place to lay his head.”

“Yes, siree,” Korg sang in his soft lilt, you could guess he was Australian, maybe a New Zealander given the odd incline of his words.

He turned you away from the brothers and directed you down the hallway. He patted your back as he pointed you inside your bedroom and you entered wordlessly.

“Sorry,” he said as he grabbed the door knob, “just doing my job.”

“Uh huh,” you paced the small area rug.

He closed the door and you heard his departure, punctuated by your apartment door. The sky outside the window was quickly turning to night. You went to it and stared down at the snow. It was too far to drop without hurting yourself, likely bad enough that you wouldn’t get much further. The only way out was past the two criminals in your living room.

You unzipped your coat and hung it on the back of your door. You stepped out of your boots and sighed. You shed the layers in surrender and stared at your bed. There, on the pillow, a stuffed cat with a rose hugged between its paws. You’d seen the ridiculous toy on the counter at the pharmacy.

You sat and tossed it on the floor. You could hear the men talking but made out only a few of their words. It was a bunch of nonsense to you. Thor’s business with Bucky and Steve, if you would call it anything but crime. You didn’t even turn on the light as you languished on the shadows and your own helplessness.

“And the girl? She part of your little negotiation?” Loki slithered.

“She’s not theirs,” Thor rumbled and you perked up as your entire body tense, “she’s mine… she just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Oh, she does seem fond of you,” Loki snickered, “I don’t think I’ve seen a woman more keen on you.”

“She’s clever,” Thor praised, “and she’s…” he was silent as some gesture finished his sentence.

“So obscene, I can see how she’s taken to you so warmly,” Loki said, “but I will advise you, brother, as you always seek of me, that she is a distraction and you would be better to not let her keep your attention for too long.”

“Are you jealous? It’s a small town but there are women enough,” Thor offered, “even you might find yourself a treat during your stay. Maybe you could find one to pull that stick from your ass.”

“Maybe,” Loki sneered, “well, it is late and I’ve had enough of a day. Longer on your sake. Tell me where to send my driver and we might meet again in the morning. I would hope my mood better by then but I doubt it.”

“Is it ever?” Thor replied, “down the main street and a left after the bookstore, place on Hartwood, number sixty-three on the east side of the building.”

“These small towns,” Loki scoffed, “was this truly worth the detour?”

“Barnes controls much more than this detour,” Thor replied as you heard the floorboards under their feet and the hinges groaned, “you will see I did not bring you here for nothing.”

“Mmm,” Loki hummed, “do not get too carried away. I am not one for late mornings.”

“I will save some energy,” Thor kidded, “tomorrow then, brother.”

The door closed and you heard Loki’s muffled descent. Your heartbeat picked up and you crawled across the bed. You hugged yourself as you laid on your side on the far edge and closed your eyes. He might leave you alone if he thought you were asleep. _What else could you do?_

You listened with your hand balled under your other arm. You tried to steady your breath but it kept catching in your chest. You could hear him moving around, slowly traipsing closer to your door. The handle turned and you squeezed your eyes shut tight. He opened it with the metallic croak of hinges.

The light flicked on and glowed through your eyelids. He let out a soft chuckle and the bed shifted behind you. The mattress bounced and his boots clattered empty onto the floor. He turned and laid back with a sigh, your double barely big enough for him alone as he was snug against your back. He rolled onto his side and hung his arm over you.

“Kitten,” he nuzzled the back of your head, “your games are over.”

You ignored him and his hand moved along your folded arms. He pressed his palm to your chest and felt your heart hammering. He laughed again. He knew you weren’t sleeping. You wrenched your hand from under your other arm and grabbed his. You tossed it away but not far. His thick bicep pushed against you.

“You kick a dog enough and he’ll snap,” his large hand went to your throat. 

You grabbed two of his fingers and tried to stop his grip. Again, he was too strong and only tangled your fingers in his as he grasped your neck. He sat up and forced you onto your back. Your eyes shot open and you gaped up at him.

“Thor,” you whispered, “please--”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he cooed as he lifted his leg over you. He sat and straddled your stomach, “I just wanna make you purr, kitten.”

“Get off,” you yanked your hand from your throat and slapped his arms, “let me go!”

“Ah ah ah,” he squeezed and you choked, “I said I don’t want to hurt, not that I won’t.”

“Why--”

“Why?” he interrupted you, “Hmm, why are you running, kitten?”

“Can’t you… take a… hint?” you gasped and kicked as the air came slow into your lungs.

“Can’t you?” he countered again, “I’ve been nice. Patient. Oh, kitten, I can pet you just right.”

“Stop!” You clamped your hand around his wrist.

“I see you wagging your tail at me,” he leaned over you, “a dog’s gotta chase his prey.”

“Get--”

Your words were smothered by his lips. He kissed you ferociously and slid back on your hips. He spread his body over yours, pinning you down under his weight. His hand left your throat and he gripped your head in both hands as he poked his tongue into your mouth. You murmured around him, your hands caught under his chest as you pushed helplessly.

“Come on,” he grizzled as he pulled back, his eyes fiery as his hand slipped between your bodies, “just a little meow, kitty.”

“No,” you pushed harder but your arms only strained against him.

His fingers slid under the top of your pants and down over your panties. You squirmed and his long fingers traced the vee between your thighs. He growled and crashed his lips into yours again. He shoved a knee between yours, then the other. He spread your legs and pressed his fingers against the thin fabric.

You turned your head away and gulped at air as heat radiated from his touch. You whined in frustration and curled your fingers against his chest. He smelled like leather and cedar. He felt along the lacy edge of your panties and prodded beneath. He searched blindly and hummed as he dipped between your folds.

“Ah, kitten,” he breathed, “this is what you’ve been waiting for.”

“Get--” you hissed as he pressed on your clit and swirled his fingertips, “stop!”

He ignored you and bent to peck at your throat, each kiss rougher, a little more teeth, and little more snarl. He nibbled as your skin as his fingers toyed with you. You got your hands above his shoulders and clung to them, pushing and wriggling desperately. 

His fingers crept further back and circled your entrance. The panic seized around your ribcage and you cried out. He shoved a long thick finger into you. Your grip tightened on his shoulders and your hips bucked without thought. He pulled in and out of you as he turned his thumb to rest on your clit.

He slid another finger into you, stretching you more than you expected. Your walls clenched and so did your teeth. You stared at the wall as you panted with the sudden jolt of adrenaline and arousal. You heard yourself around his fingers, wet and wanting despite his repugnance.

“Oh, kitten, that’s it,” his other hand tugged at your shirt and he caressed your stomach. 

He explored your flesh, almost curiously as he kept his face buried in your neck. He rolled your shirt further up and brought his mouth down to meet his hand as he groped your chest through your bra. You beat on his back as his other hand stoked the flame of your core higher.

“Please--” you rasped, “st--”

He thrust his hand faster and growled between your breasts and he marked them with tiny bites. You closed your eyes and turned your head up as the windows shook with the storm and mirrored the chaos inside of you. You were ashamed of how his touch affected you, at home it consumed you.

You swept your arm around his head and hooked your legs around him. You cradled his large body and rocked him on the bed as your hips tilted hungrily. You gulped at air and your voice fizzled with your release. 

You came in a thunderous onslaught of ripples and felt your delight leak down his knuckles as he shoved them as deep as he could. He held the heel of his hand against your clit and shook until the waves passed. Your arm went limp, your legs too as he stopped. He drew his hand out of your pants and sat up.

Your lashes fluttered as he gazed down at you and brought his hand to his lips. You looked away as he licked his fingers clean. You shivered and sat up. You pulled your legs from around him and huddled against the headboard, crushing the pillows beneath you. Your hand trembled as you hid your face.

When your breath slowed, you abruptly turned away and hung your legs over the mattress. He caught your arm as he fell heavily onto his back and the springs bounced your body.

“Where are you going?” he yanked you back until you peeked over your shoulder at him. Your eyes quickly flitted down. 

“I--” you turned back and he kept his hand on your arm, “.--the bathroom.”

He dropped his hand, trailing down your back. He picked at the belt loop along the back of your pants.

“Don’t make me come find you,” he said as he let his hand fall down against you, “understand, kitten?”

You stood and walked stiffly around the bed. “Yeah,” you muttered as you stood and walked stiffly around the bed, “got it.”


End file.
